


Cold Comfort

by spacehopper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Touching, Episode Prompto, Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: Ardyn makes sure Prompto finds his way home.





	Cold Comfort

Prompto shuddered and tugged his vest closer, as if it had any chance of providing even a hint of warmth. He’d been walking for what felt like hours, but he worried it’d been far less than that. His hands had gone numb within minutes, and even through his thick boots, his toes felt like stone. He needed to find shelter, warm clothing, or both. And soon. 

As snow flew into his eyes, he squinted into the distance, a dark shape breaking up the bleak landscape. A building? He trudged forward, shoving one foot after the other. It was something to strive for, at least. Some small piece of hope. He could use some hope. Frost rimed his lashes, blurring his vision, and in this weather he could pretend it was just the snow. So that was another bit of luck. The dark shape was getting closer, and his heart lifted. It was a shack, small and rundown, but it’d be enough to get him out of the punishing wind. He began to run, using the scant resources he had left. 

The ground groaned and creaked. It was the only warning he had before the sickening crack came, too late for him to act. The ice fractured, and he plunged through, his body consumed by cold. It cut the breath from his throat, and tendrils of frigid water snaked into his nose and mouth. He wanted to scream, like he had when he fell from the train. The scene played out in his mind, Noct forcing him off the car and into the storm below. He’d never get to ask why now. His eyes drifted shut, and he sunk into the depths.

Heat like a brand on his arm, and he was yanked free, thrown gasping onto the shore. He bent over, trembling and coughing, trying to expel the water from his lungs. As he stood, he rubbed his arms, trying to restore some warmth.

And froze.

“Are you cold?” It was just the lightest caress, a warm finger drawing lines in the water running down his cheek and over his chapped lower lip. Prompto shook in the frigid air, closing his eyes, trying to block out the swirling snow and the man standing before him. Ardyn. How could he be here?

He took a step back, and his foot sunk through the icy crust. He tipped forward, and firm hands grasped his arms.

“No,” he said, trying to ignore how his teeth chattered, and how his clothes were quickly freezing to his skin, coating him in a thin layer of ice.

“Oh, really? That’s too bad. I was going to offer my aid,” Ardyn said. “Well, more aid. I did just save you now.” Prompto could barely see him, eyes almost frozen shut, but he thought Ardyn was smiling. He took a deep breath and almost choked on the bitter air. He wouldn’t make it if he didn’t get some relief. And what pride did he have to sacrifice? As Ardyn slowly turned away, seemingly unfettered by the blizzard, Prompto reached out a hand.

“Wait,” he said. Ardyn stopped, then revolved on the spot, his hat tugged low so Prompto couldn’t see his face. “Yes.”

In the blink of an eye, Ardyn was there, hand cupping Prompto’s face, the contrast feeling like a burn across his cheek. 

“Tell me,” he said. 

“I’m—” What did he want? “I’m freezing.” When Ardyn did nothing, he added, “Please.”

“Ah, in that case, let me warm you up.” Ardyn spread his arms and enfolded Prompto in his coat. The warmth he radiated was beyond what could be natural, but Prompto barely cared anymore. He tucked his head against Ardyn’s shoulder, blocking the wind. A hand came up to stroke his hair, and Prompto shivered, then yelped as Ardyn’s arms gathered him up, close to his chest. Ardyn strode through the snow, and Prompto faded in and out. From what he could see, they were heading towards the shack. 

He blinked as he was set on the floor, swaying and catching himself on a rough wood.

“Now be a good boy and take off those wet clothes,” Ardyn said as he fastened the door behind them.

“What?” Ardyn couldn’t mean— 

“Hypothermia, my dear. The wet clothing may well be the death of you.” He tugged at Prompto’s vest. Right. That made sense. He remembered it being drilled into his head by Gladio, one of many attempts to teach him survival. He pushed Ardyn’s hand away, numb fingers fumbling with the stiff fabric. He was able to throw off the vest, and tug his shirt over his head. But his fingers were too stiff to undo his pants or the laces on his boots. He looked up at Ardyn, who just smiled. 

“H-help,” he managed to stutter out. “Please.” 

Ardyn knelt before him, and he closed his eyes as boots and socks were slipped off his feet. Fingers trailed up his leg, leaving lines of fiery heat in their wake. His abs jumped at Ardyn’s scalding touch on his bare skin, brushing against it again and again as he unbuttoned and unzipped Prompto’s pants.

“That’s good enough, don’t you think?” Ardyn set his pants over a small wood burning stove that was providing scant heat in the small shack. Prompto stood there, shaking, as Ardyn walked over to a cupboard, pulling out a pile of rough blankets and setting them on the small bed. 

He went to the hooks by the door, removing his hat with a careless grace, followed by his coat, and then the layers below. Soon he was glad only in his pants and socks. It should’ve been absurd, seeing him like this, the final boss without his iconic costume. Prompto remembered being told when he was scared of giving a presentation, to imagine his teachers in their underwear.

He wished Ardyn were still clothed. 

Sitting on the bed, Ardyn beckoned to Prompto, holding out his hand in invitation. “Please, join me. You look ever so unhappy, standing there alone.”

Alone. The word choice deliberate. Ardyn knew what Noct had done. Maybe he knew why. Prompto almost asked, but the words died on his lips. He’d rather ask Noct himself. And he needed to make sure he could do that. 

He walked slowly across the freezing floor, careful of the barely melted ice, and placed his hand in Ardyn’s, let him draw Prompto down into his arms. It was warm, so warm, enough to make Prompto tremble, the frost on his lashes finally melting as he watched the fire in the small stove. Ardyn’s arms trapped him against his unyielding chest, and he felt humid breath on the back of his neck, and a hand stroking the underside of his wrist. 

Prompto closed his eyes, and dreamed of ice and flame.

*

When Prompto woke, Ardyn was gone. Next to his now dry clothes, he saw a neat stack of winter gear, coat and hat and winter boots with thick socks tucked inside them. He padded over to the items, and pulled them all on. When he got to the socks, he found a note pinned there. 

_To help you find your way home._

Prompto rubbed his wrist, and headed back into the storm.


End file.
